


Office Hours

by Pax



Category: Young Wizards - Diane Duane
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:13:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pax/pseuds/Pax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little extracurricular work never hurt anyone, particularly when you set your own curriculum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Office Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magelette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magelette/gifts).



The sun blazed down on Dairine as she trudged her way up the hill to Tom and Carl’s house. _It isn’t that I need help_ , she rationalized. Dairine was perfectly confident that given enough time, she and Spot could work her – issue – out . It was just that she had a limitation that she needed to correct. Failing to take advantage of the available resources would be silly.

 Last winter, Tom and Carl had begun holding what they called “colloquia” and what the local college wizards called “office hours” most Sunday afternoons.  Dairine knew they’d started on Nita’s suggestion, but every time she tried to get the full story out of her sister, Nita just blushed and said that it was easier to drop in to ask questions if you knew people wouldn’t be otherwise occupied.

The idea had seemed silly to Dairine, but as she banged her way through the back garden gate, Dairine could see that she wasn’t the only person who had decided to take advantage of the afternoon to brush up on her skills – at least theoretically. Darryl McAllister was by the koi pond, and seemed engaged in a serious-enough conversation with three of the fish, their tails sending ripples through the pond as they hovered near the surface. But there was no way that the two college-age wizards by the new marble-and-granite checkerboard patio Carl had laid down last month were on errantry. They seemed to be playing some variant on chess that involved two extra knights and three dimensions, the uppermost pieces supported on slabs of hardened air.

Tom was sitting in a lawn chair nearby with a pitcher of lemonade and his laptop, typing away fast enough that even Dairine was impressed. He looked up and waved her over. “Dairine! Come have some lemonade!”

“So, office hours are a little more relaxed than I thought they’d be,” Dairine said as she sat down, gesturing at the chess game, which seemed to be breaking down over a question of whether a critical white rook had sunk from the third level to the second while Black was distracted making her move.

Tom laughed. “Well, some weeks it’s more structured. We’ve had wizards come in to lecture, or round-tables. This week, though, our guest speaker had a last-minute call out to Texas – something about a prophetic goat – and we couldn’t get a substitute, so it’s catch-as-catch-can. Darryl is genuinely here on business. He wanted to bone up on dream interpretation, and there’s no one better at that than our fish, though your sister’s getting there. But I can’t think it’s a bad thing if half the wizards who come just want to play chess or talk. Some of the best learning happens when you think you’re having fun.”

He nodded towards the patio, where the chess game had now been completely abandoned. White had scratched out a shorthand representation of his hovering spell in glowing characters in the air, and Black was pointing at a section and writing out an alternative on her palm.

“But it doesn’t seem like you’re here just to play chess and drink lemonade,” Tom said. “Why don’t you get right to it?

Dairine squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. “I’ve been getting less than satisfactory results out of some of the Manual’s spoken spells,” she admitted. “When I cast through Spot, everything’s fine. But I don’t want to always have to rely on him. I know I’ve leveled off, and there’s nothing to be done about that. But – there must be something I can do to use what I have left more efficiently. Seniors and Advisories can do more than the average hedgewitch, even though you’re old.”

Tom raised an eyebrow. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Dairine,” he said dryly. “We do tend to have a few more tricks up our sleeve, as we get older. Some of that is just plain practice. Wizardry is like a muscle; it gets stronger as you exercise. Some of that is in how you craft your spells. If you can take advantage of more of the natural properties of your surroundings and of certain objects, you can reduce the power burden. That’s my area. Some of it, though, is in the actual Speech. For that, you want someone else. Carl!” he hollered back towards the house.

Carl poked his head out of the back door of the house. “You bellowed?”

“Dairine wants a consultation,” Tom said. “On more effective spellcasting. Care to lend a hand?”

”Casting or timing?”

“Casting.”

“Sure thing,” Carl said. “Just let me finish up with the dishwasher. Dairine, would you please grab two of the leftover paving stones? The marble ones, not the granite. Dump them over by the statue.”

Dairine grabbed two of the marble slabs from where they were stacked over by the garden shed, and promptly dropped one. They were heavier than they looked – perfectly square, but unpolished, and about a foot and a half on each side. Sweat started trickling down the back of her shirt as she lugged them over to the head of the koi pond. Carl was nuts to have done the patio without wizardry, she thought as she dumped them on the ground at the head of the koi pond, where a not particularly skillful copy of the Venus di Milo stood at about her height. Hauling two of the slabs had been bad enough; she couldn’t imagine laying out a whole chessboard manually.

When he saw that she was done, Carl came over from where he’d been talking with Tom, wiping his hands of grease on a spare t-shirt.

“Good, you picked the chipped ones,” he said briskly. “Now, tell me how you would stretch that one,” he pointed to the stone on the left, “Until it’s thin enough to be translucent.”

“The Mason’s -” Dairine started.

“Nope.”

“Well, a variant -”

“You don’t get the Mason’s Word. You also don’t get any variants of the Mason’s Word, any existing spells, or the Manual. How do you do it?”

“What kind of wizard doesn’t use the Speech?” Dairine asked.

“I never said you couldn’t use the Speech. I said you couldn’t use spells,” Carl said, unperturbed. “You’re smart. You’re the hotshot who went to Mars and left the door open; you shouldn’t need a spell.”

“But there’s already a spell for this!”

“And there was already a spell for going to Mars.” Carl was smirking at her. “What’s your point?”

Dairine could feel her face starting to flush. “Are you always like this when people ask you for help?” She wasn’t used to not having the answers, and Carl wasn’t giving her any time to think.

“Like what?”

“Like a jerk!” Dairine snapped. “You don’t have to talk to me like I’m an idiot!” She was hot, and still discomfited from hauling the stones. By this point, the chess players had abandoned their argument and wandered over to watch the fun.

“And you don’t have to cast spells like the universe is an idiot.” Carl said, his tone shifting from aggression to a more gentle register. “I’ve seen you work, Dairine. It’s impressive, but you bulldoze through spells like an avalanche. That approach works for a while, but it’s already starting to be less effective for you, isn’t it?”

Dairine nodded sullenly. “Yes, but -”

“It’s only going to get worse. One of the most important skills you can learn, as a wizard, is how to work with, not against, your collaborators, whether they’re other wizards, or the materials you’re trying to enact change on.” Carl smiled ruefully. “It’s the hardest thing you’ll ever do, but trust me – if we can get cooperation, our job gets much easier.”

“Okay, but what does this have to do with stretching marble without the Mason’s Word?” Dairine said.

It was hard to describe the change that came over Carl at that moment. He still looked the same – dark hair and eyes, a well-kept moustache, and a t-shirt that was covered in dust and grease – but he stood taller and straighter. His shoulders filled up a little more of the garden plot. As Carl bent down to stroke the marble, he looked, Dairine thought, a little bit like a shark, but a friendly one.

“Hello,” Carl said in the Speech with a warm smile. “How are you doing today?”

_I am much the same as I was yesterday, and the day before, and the day before._ The marble’s Speech was ponderous and rough. _The girl was somewhat rough in handling me,_ (Dairine cringed), _but it makes no difference to me._

“Very true.” Carl nodded sagely. “Your options are, in this state, somewhat limited.” He dragged one fingernail along the rough-hewn marble, letting it snag on every bump. “It’s tough, always being so rigid.  You feel every shock and jolt. Do you think you might like to let loose a little bit?”

The marble was silent for a long time. _No,_ it said at last.

“No?”

_No._

“Well,” Carl said. “That’s a real shame. I was hoping – but no. You’re right. It’s not right for a stone of your age and dignity.” He stood up, brushing off his hands

_What?_ The marble asked?

“I just thought,” Carl said, “that a stone of your class might be interested in Bernini.”

_What is Bernini?_

“Bernini was an artist of exceptional skill, who worked very closely with marble much like yourself. Under his hands, oh!” Carl held one hand to his chest, “You should see the shapes that the stone could take. It dimpled and bent under his fingers like flesh, with the sensuality of a living thing, of marble newly forming in the ground. Visitors came from miles around to witness its beauty. It was even said,” Carl continued, “that a man could fall in love with one of his statues.”

The marble did not move, but Dairine got the impression that if it could, it would be shifting as uncomfortably as she had when Carl was grilling her. _I am solid. That is important. Love is – less so._

“Oh, I’m not saying that you’re wrong!” Carl said. “The world needs good, solid stone underfoot, or where would we be? But no one could blame a stone if, after a few millennia, it felt the need for a change.”

_And this Bernini – he can help me change?_

“Unfortunately, he died many years ago. But, if you like, I can help.”

The marble pondered for a few moments. _If I wanted to change, what could I be?_

Carl smiled with the air of a kindly professor. “There are so many things you could be. A statue, with soft, full curves that invite adulation, or a monument, commemorating great deeds, or a fold of fabric, as translucent and pale as a fine silk veil, with the sun to shine through you and warm you.” Carl was speaking more and more rapidly. The air of the garden was drawing in close to listen, as if he were casting a spell, though he had made none of the standard preparations or opened a wizard’s know. “The possibilities are endless. It all depends on what you think would suit you best.”

_A veil!_ The marble said, speaking more quickly than Dairine had thought possible. _I should like to be a veil, and feel the sun._

“I’m so glad you asked.”

Carl seized two corners of the marble and pulled. The stone didn’t stretch so much as it unfolded, yard after yard of translucent white snapping from the ground, catching the summer breeze and billowing out. Carl worked quickly, but efficiently, draping it around the torso of the Venus di Milo like a toga.

“See,” he said, still talking to the marble. “The wind feels so much better when you move with it, and the sun is warm on your veins, and the light shines through you and makes you sparkle like one of those diamonds – so overrated, though. Your luminescence is much more refined – a candle to their incandescent light.” He smoothed the final folds into place. “There. See how well your drape hangs? You’ll be the envy of the chessboard.”

The marble hummed quietly to itself, mentally settling into its new shape. _Yes_ , it said. _This suits me nicely. I believe I’ll stay this way for a while, though. Moving in that way was not entirely comfortable._ It gave a sort of mental shudder. _I did like the feeling of the wind, and the warmth of the light, but this is a good shape. I would like to keep it._

“Of course,” Carl said. “If you change your mind at any time, just let me know, and we’ll see if we can find a shape that suits you better.” He walked back towards the patio table, grinning broadly at Tom, who seemed to be hiding a smile. “How was that?” he asked his assembled audience.

Darryl, who had wandered over from the koi pond, burst into applause. “You know,” the girl who’d been playing chess earlier said ruefully. “I always forget that you’re in sales.”

Carl smiled, and ruffled her short hair. “My mama says I was born this way. But, that doesn’t mean you can’t get better. Dairine, see if you can add to the drapery. Darryl, Teddy, Jeeyoon, there are more slabs in the shed if you want to practice too. I,” Carl said, stealing Tom’s lemonade, “Am going to sit and enjoy my garden.”

He seemed nonchalant, but Dairine noticed that he added more sugar to the lemonade, and drank it very quickly. _So, that wasn’t easy, even for a Senior,_ she thought. _Good to have a benchmark._ She knelt down beside her paving stone. “Dai Stiho,” she said. “How would you like to have a little chat?”


End file.
